yyaldrin

in je ogen waait de wind
a loud pub where there's so many people talking and shouting at the same time that you can't distinguish words anymore but your brain still tries. it gives me headaches but then when i drink it's like all that noise drownes out and becomes a warm blanket.
 

yyaldrin

in je ogen waait de wind
do the australians drink as much as the brits do in their pubs? or to they sit on their verandas with liquor?
 

Murphy

cat malogen
I love the way booze speaks to you the deeper into it you get

eg window shopping online, rare tasting notes of “gold, frankincense and myrrh” so you can drink the body and blood of christ which reminds me of mass and nonce-alert clergy

the way it asks you rationally but with just a trace of panic “am I half empty or half full?”, to which the obvious answer is half empty so stock up asap which is a killer as one bottle will inevitably become 1.5 or 2 or worse, mixing everything constantly

”get more!” after the 5-a-side pub sesh, “more!” after a munch out so you end up with a home looking like a prepper’s stocked apothecary of yet more booze - a fine Medoc, a bottle of Calvados someone brought back from a holiday, different bourbons, brandies (Armagnac or Cognac, you decide), Dr Loosen Riesling an ex loved, more reds from old world to new to Bulgarian Plovdiv chunder juice

how I miss thee shredding mid-week jitters, how I miss thee bailing into Tesco in a cab on a mission seconds to closing for yet more booze, how I miss thee fucked knuckles and grazes and sprained ankle of unknown provenance and this incredible lass screaming at me to fuck off out of her life because fresh urine was found pooled just to the side of the lav (more!)

the most corrupting compound known to humanity but what can you do, Northern Europe would go to war with itself if you removed its access to alcohol
 
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